


Sorry I'm Late

by RumbleFish14



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Caring, Comfort, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gallavich, M/M, Manic Ian Gallagher, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 16:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14
Summary: Set after Ian gets out of the mental hospital and Mickey finds him in bed, he chooses to take care of Ian the best he can





	Sorry I'm Late

**Author's Note:**

> Another idea my brain couldn't shut down, little sad and happy at the same time

Sorry I'm Late  
(Gallavich One-shot)

"Sorry I'm late…" 

That was the only thing he could say at the moment and from the shocked but grateful look on Ian's face, it had been the right thing to say. 

How does one apologize for not being there when you get out of a mental hospital? Flowers don't seem like enough, neither does the regular "I'm sorry". It lacks all emotion and right now, they relied on emotion and feelings to get them passed this. 

Ian was bipolar. No ifs ands or buts. He just was and they had to accept it and learn to deal with it, without losing each other or what's the point of love?

Mickey failed Ian today. He wasn't there when he needed him. He ignored all those phone calls. All the texts and voicemails. Choosing to feel sorry for himself instead, choosing to try and drink away his feelings. To forget. It hadn't worked.

"You can't drink him away…"

Even Debbie knew what he was doing. Apparently it was the same shit Frank did when Monica was first diagnosed bipolar. But Frank; he didn't want to be like Frank and treat Ian like he treated Monica. Ignoring her illness, hoping it would go away. Going along with her crazy plans, even if she hurt someone.

Mickey couldn't do that.

But he was there now and he had a chance to make up for it. Fiona answered the door with a mix between relief and disappointment but she let him in, pointing up the stairs to where Ian would be. 

Ian was laying towards the wall, blankets pulled up to his shoulder and Mickey thought he was asleep. Until Ian turned and those reddened, watery eyes ripped his heart from his chest, making him realize what a big mistake it was to leave him. 

"Sorry I'm late." 

Three simple words turned that watery look into something beautiful, something wondrous. Mickey knew in that moment, that even if this shit got really fucking bad, he would never leave Ian to deal with this alone. 

Mickey saw the relief in Ian's eyes as he kicked his shoes off and peeled his jacket back. It intensified as he walked to the bed and Ian turned enough to give him some room to lie down. 

Now they were laying together and Mickey couldn't remember ever feeling so peaceful before. Even with all the shit that loomed over them, having Ian relaxed beside him was enough to block out the fears. 

One battered hand moved softly over Ian's face, tracing his cheekbone, then his jaw and his bottom lip. Green eyes closed and Mickey used that moment to nuzzle the side of his face, lightly kissing his cheek. 

"Mick…" Ian's voice cracked and he couldn't say what he needed to.

Mickey leaned up on one elbow and kissed Ian's forehead. "I know." He whispered and placed another kiss there, a softer one. "We're gonna get through this shit Ian. We have to."

Ian nodded and turned on his right side, facing Mickey until their heads touched. His hand moved to Mickey's side and he dug his fingers in, holding on. 

"You sleep at all?" Mickey asked and saw Ian looking over the sore cut under his eye. Ian shook his head. "What about food?" 

Ian shook his head again and moved to bury his face in Mickey's shirt.

Mickey closed his eyes, letting his jaw rest on Ian's head for a moment. "Only way this works is if you let me help you."

Ian's only reply was to grip the shirt tighter. 

Pulling back, Mickey was able to see the wetness on Ian's face. The sight made his heart ache, squeezing painfully against his ribs. He dipped his head down, lightly gripping Ian's chin. The kiss was light, almost nonexistent, but it had them both sighing deeply into it.

Ian was the one to grip his jaw, digging his fingers into the hinge to keep him there and Mickey didn't fight it because he wanted it so fucking bad. Nothing in the world felt better than Ian's kisses, his touch, and the love he could give. It was magic. It was real.

Once Ian had his fill of kissing, Mickey let their heads rest against each other for a moment while he spoke. "First, you need a bath." He sniffed and scrunched his face playfully, making Ian's mouth lift in a smile. "Then food, then sleep."

Ian just nodded, letting Mickey assume control.

"Let me go get it started and I'll be back." Mickey kissed his forehead once as he got up and forced his body to turn away, heading next door to the bathroom. He turned the water on high, letting the bath fill with clean, steaming water, then stood to go get him. 

"Hey, he awake?" Fiona asked as she pointed to Ian's room.

Mickey stopped and nodded. "Gonna help him as much as I can."

"Anything I can do?" 

"Food maybe?" He rubbed his chin, eager for this conversation to end so he could get back to Ian. "He needs to eat after."

Fiona nodded. "I'll see what I can cook up."

He left her standing in the hallway, moving back into the room to see Ian still laying in the same position as before. "Come on sleepyface," Mickey smiled and held his hand out. "Don't fight me."

Only Ian didn't fight him and that should have made him worry. In fact, it was stashed in the back of his mind for later, when he had a second to breathe and worry about it all. But for now, Mickey just held Ian's hand and moved them into the bathroom, locking them in together.

When Ian just stood beside the tub, staring at him with that tired look, Mickey gripped the hem of Ian's green shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. Then moved to his shorts and without missing a beat, Mickey pulled them and his boxers down to pool at Ian's feet.

"Come on, in ya go." Mickey held his hand out and smiled when Ian took it and let him help as he stepped into the bath. "Legs might be too long but I think you'd fall in the shower."

Ian nodded and sat down slowly, bending his knees as he got settled, eyes falling closed. "Feels good."

That got Mickey to smile as he knelt on the floor beside the bathtub. "Good, it's supposed to." His arm rested against the damp side and Ian's slowly moved from the water to grip it. 

"Missed you." Ian mumbled sleepily, never opening his eyes.

"Me too man." Mickey replied quickly and linked their fingers as they slipped under the water. 

As good as a bath was, it didn't mean much if you just sat there. Ian just sat there, he seemed to just enjoy the water but he needed an actual bath. Mickey took several moments to decide what to do, if he should tell him to start cleaning or if it was up to him to do it. Or if he even could. But it didn't have to be sexual, not at all. It could just be simple; him taking care of Ian.

Without another thought, Mickey took his hand back from Ian's and grabbed the clean rag off the side of the sink, dipped it into the water as he soaped it up and knew Ian was watching him the entire time. 

It started with Ian's hand, then up his arm and shoulder, across the span of his chest to his other arm. Mickey willed away the blush as he lightly scrubbed Ian's skin. Not blushing because Ian was naked, although that was something to blush about, but it was the look Ian was giving him. How steady his gaze was. Making him the one feeling naked and vulnerable. 

When Mickey moved back to Ian's chest, with the intention of going further down, Ian's hand came out of the water and traced the side of his face. Mickey glanced up, smiling as much as he was able to, then kept going. Across Ian's stomach and abs, then under the water to his hips, blushing as he moved over his groin, then down to his thighs. 

Resoaping the rag had him blushing again, feeling Ian's eyes still on him. Mickey bit his lip, then moved onto Ian's thighs that breached the water, then each long leg, grinning a little when he tickled Ian's foot and he squirmed in the tub. 

Mickey grabbed the towel on his lap and set it on the side of the tub. "Wanna lean up? I'll get your back." Ian leaned forward and let his head rest against the towel, almost folded in on himself. Mickey circled Ian's shoulders with one arm, keeping him close while the other moved the soapy rag up and down his back. 

"Thank you," Ian whispered, almost back in Mickey's chest where he started. "For coming back."

Ian shouldn't be thanking him, but hating him for taking so damn long. Sickness and health, right? Well, this was that sickness and Mickey had balked. He had been weak and now Ian was thanking him. 

"Don't gotta thank me Ian." Mickey held him a little tighter and moved his arm down to scrub over Ian's lower back. "Shouldn't have taken me so damn long."

Ian lifted his head and realized how close they were when their noses bumped together. "I'd have waited forever Mick, but I knew you'd come."

The sincerity in Ian's voice made him want to cry. Ian actually believed he would be there, even if it took him some time. And he was right, Mickey was there. And after this, he wouldn't be late again for anything. 

Mickey said he was sorry again without saying it. He dropped the rag into the bath as he kissed Ian's lips. Something soft and sweet but it didn't lack the love he had for Ian, or the passion. But love doesn't always have to be driving head first and losing yourself. Love could be slow and sweet, just taking care of each other. 

Still kissing, Mickey moved up on his feet, leaning forward so Ian was back in the water and the bubbles were washed away. Ian took ahold of his face and his shirt, making sure he didn't go too far from him. 

By the time they pulled back, the wetness on their cheeks had nothing to do with the water. 

"Ready to get out?" Mickey asked as he grabbed for the towel. 

Ian nodded and let Mickey grip his hands as he stood. "Sleepy."

Towel in hand, Mickey wrapped it safely around Ian's hips, then grabbed another as he stepped out and dried off his legs and arms, up his chest, around his back and finally into that mass of red hair.

"Fiona is making food," Mickey smiled when Ian's hair stood up all over the place. "Food first, then sleep."

Ian didn't argue with that or anything else as he opened the door and led them back into his room. Mickey closed the door and went for Ian's clothes.

"All of it or just boxers?" Mickey asked as he dug around for a clean pair.

"Just boxers."

"Just boxers it is." Mickey mumbled back and held them out to Ian. He didn't take them. And he wasn't being cheeky or stubborn, but he was out of it still. Mickey unfolded them, unwound Ian's towel and bent a little with them spread wide.

So many things could have happened in this position. And neither of them took that opportunity. The only thing Mickey allowed himself, was a kiss to Ian's hip once the boxers were firmly in place. 

"You can rest until she brings your food. Yeah?" Mickey asked and pulled back the messy blankets. 

"Yeah, okay." Ian replied and slipped back into the bed, turning on his right side again. "Can you lay with me?"

Mickey smiled a little. "Pants on or off."

Ian didn't hesitate. "Off, and the shirt too. It's too scratchy."

When Fiona walked in, she'd get a good dose of skin on skin, but only in that cuddly way. Mickey let his jeans drop, then pulled his shirt over his head and wiggled beside Ian. His damp head came to rest on his chest, one long leg tangled with his own and Ian's hand rested in the center of his chest.

"Good?" Mickey breathed heavily as he began to relax.

Ian turned to kiss his chest, smelling his skin before he laid back down. "Perfect."

"Only until she brings your food, then you eat." Mickey warned with absolutely no heat in his voice and he could feel himself relaxing too much, growing just as tired as Ian was. "I mean it." His hand moved up to grip Ian's hair while the other one ghosted along his arm.

"I know Mick," Ian closed his eyes, snuggling deeper. 

Food wouldn't happen. Fiona would later find them asleep, wrapped up in each other with similar looks of love painted across their faces. Love was hard, love made you tired. But real love was worth all of it.


End file.
